All I could think of was you
by Lexie-Rae
Summary: "I think I'm falling in love with you, Luke." There's a moment when his heart performs somersaults. And then he sees the tears sailing down her cheeks. LP
1. All I could think of was you

**_So I've been doing a lot of reading recently, and trying to draw some influences from an array of writers to my own writing. And this is what was born. It's not quite my usual style, but I hope you like. Lyrics belong to Keane._**

****...

He imagines a different life, different circumstances. Maybe if things were different, they could have been together, _really _together.

If they'd have met sooner in life. If they'd grown up together or studied at the same college. If…maybe there'd have been a Lucas and Peyton.

As it was they grew up on opposite sides of the country; him in his small town of Tree Hill, North Carolina and her in the Surfer's paradise of Huntington Beach, California. Following school they both went to local colleges in their home states. By the time Lucas came to the West Coast he'd already met the girl he thought was 'The One' and had a ring on her finger. Then he met Peyton Sawyer.

_Now is the time of our comfort and plenty_  
><em>These are the days we've been working for<em>  
><em>Nothing can touch us and nothing can harm us<em>  
><em>And nothing goes wrong anymore<em>

She's in a light summer dress, her soft blonde curls tamed away from her face with a silky scarf. She smiles, and pulls open the door for him. There's a record playing and the sun lazing in through the blinds.

"I'm nearly ready, I promise." Her voice sings along the hallway as she pads away from him, her hips swaying lightly ahead of his eyes.

His eyebrows arch skyward, suspicious, but he's smiling too. Her tardiness doesn't bother him, he'll wait. He follows her to the bedroom, her bag lying empty on the floor. Her eyes watch him carefully, waiting for a sign that says he's caught her out.

She distracts herself at the dressing table, searching for a necklace. He's soon behind her, his warm breath on her neck and his hand settling over her stomach. His other hand reaches down and bunches the hem of her dress, his fingers wrinkling the material as he lifts it to expose her thigh. His stubble grazes her collar bone as he lays kisses over her soft skin.

She feeds from his touch, spinning in his embrace. Her face is alight with surprise and thrill. Her fingers brush along his shirt collar and down his chest, popping the buttons expertly.

Leaving the route plan on the dresser, his hands give her their full attention. She grips onto his bicep as it flexes, holding her. They kiss, long and grieving, for one another. Her hands are in his short hair and around his ear; his are all over her. His fingers catch on the scarf tying her hair back, and he pulls, her ringlets fly free. The straps from her dress are fallen, and his shirt is hanging rough down his back.

She's gorgeous, he thinks, dishevelled and devilish. Braless too. And for this weekend, unforgivably only this weekend, she's his.

He pushes the thought away from his mind; the one that reminds him that this is their last foray. He owes it to her. God, he owes her so much more than that. But it's all that he can give to her. As an apology. A memory. A wish.

_Singing a song with your feet on the dashboard  
>The cigarette streaming into the night<br>These are the things that I want to remember  
>I want to remember you by<br>_

He loves to drive her car. It's probably because for a short while it becomes _theirs_ when he's behind the wheel. They leave the city and their lives behind them. She's curled at his side on the bench, her head settled on his chest and her hand slipped around him, as though taking ownership. His heart always beats a little faster when she does that, he knows, and since her head's resting there over his heart, she knows it too.

This isn't a new event for them; sneaking out of town together. Their bodies pressed tightly together and their breath entwined in the air. They've done the dirty motels, the quiet middle of nowhere getaways and the make do business trips.

Sometimes she's quiet and pensive. He knows they're the moments when she's wrestling with her conscience and telling herself that she's doing something wrong. Which of course they are but nothing this wrong has ever felt this right, to either of them. He hates that it causes her so much worry.

They're good people, he reminds her, but there's a look in her eye like she doesn't quite believe him. And that makes him love her just that little bit more because she's so morally just.

The best journeys they've shared are the ones when she lets go. When all of her walls come down and she lets him see the real her. Free and funny and flirty. That's the Peyton he just can't get enough of.

Today she puts a CD on at the highest volume possible, lies back and sings every single word. Lucas isn't sure whether she's enjoying his company at all when she does this or she's too absorbed in the music to even know that he's there. He doesn't care either way. Just to see her with a permanent smile and such clarity in her eyes is enough for him to not want for anything more.

_They won't come again,  
><em>'_cause love is the end  
>Oh no, my friend,<br>__Love is the end_

"I think I'm falling in love with you, Luke."

There's a moment when his heart performs somersaults. And then he sees the tears sailing down her cheeks.

Instantly he jumps to her and wipes away her sadness with the pads of his thumbs, "Shh, it's okay."

"It's not okay." She whispers back. She's right it's not _okay _but it doesn't change the way that he feels about her. He realised a while ago that he was falling for her. Falling hard.

She stays frozen, perched on the edge of the bed staring to the wall with a glassy look in her eye. For a moment, the driest of smiles finds her lips. "But I can't love you, Lucas Scott."

His gaze is firm, determined almost, "I don't want you to ever feel sorry for what we have, for feeling this way."

Peyton runs her long fingers through her curls and sniffs away the tears. She's never been able to kid him though. "I'm the _other_ woman, Lucas. How do you expect me to feel?"

Sighing heavily, he sinks down onto the bed beside her and presses a kiss into the crown of her head. He closes his eyes as her words revolve around his head. He hates that she feels this way, and that it's his fault. "Peyt,"

"No." She shakes her head and turns her deep stare to him, "Luke, I can't hear the apologies anymore. I can't. I shouldn't have said anything."

He doesn't say another word. He just pulls her in tight, flush against his body and kisses at her neck. It's the only way he knows to comfort her without words.

She throws her head back and forgets. Because now isn't the time to dwell on the fact that this boy isn't hers. Now is the time to enjoy his hands around her waist and his lips on hers. It's time to pretend.

_I took off my clothes and I ran to the ocean  
>Looking for somewhere to start anew<br>And when I was drowning in that holy water  
>All I could think of was you<em>

The ocean's dark; inky, inviting, deep and endless. Her eyes glisten and he laughs. She takes his hand and pulls him along the sand, her hand gripping tightly onto his. He watches her legs, with only the moon for light, stretching forwards, dashing towards the sea. She smirks back at him, knowing yet cautious, but beautifully free. He wishes he could give her this everyday.

The water licks at their feet, cool and refreshing. The world seems miles away; the city behind them is dull, quiet and forgotten. All the colour in the world is gone, aside from her.

Her brow arches and then she pulls them both down, crashing and yelping and laughing. They break through the water together, his arms safely around her waist. His eyes watch her lips as she smiles. He could live from this feeling.

Her eyes glisten up at him, holding his dreams, in their depths. In those glowing emeralds he can see the life he's always dreamt of. She holds it all there, cradled so carefully.

_Oh my friend,  
><em>_love is the end  
>So lets not pretend,<br>_'_cause love is the end  
><em>

She leans her head against his shoulder, her damp curls against his skin. He wraps his jacket around her bare shoulders and she hums lightly, contently. He can't help but think of how easy it is with her, so carefree and unspoken. Her fingers tickle at his back, absently as she stares into the vastness of the ocean before them, lapping at the sand.

He loves her, with everything in his soul. He doesn't tell her, he doesn't need to. She knows, but it's painful to hear. It's better to keep the arrangement as unspoken and denied, even though they both feel it embedded in their bones. But if he dares to tell her, it would ruin the moment and the fantasy. He doesn't want reality looming over them again, not yet.

He likes the way the sky stretches over them, in every direction he looks, it's there, like a blanket. That sky of a thousand stars, shining down. The same sky that appears every evening. He likes that no matter where they go in life, and how far away they are from one another, they'll always be under those same stars. He thinks that maybe that could push him on, maybe.

Leaning over, he brushes a stray strand of hair from her face. On the edge of his lips are promises, questions and declarations. He presses them away with a swift smile. Her eyes, _those_ eyes, gleam up at him.

He'd give up forever to keep this moment for her.

_Take it back, don't let it die  
>Or rage against the fall of night<br>'cause I still do depend on you  
>So don't say those words that wrung me through<em>

He strokes his hands along her skin, softly, almost without thinking about it. She wonders if he does this to his other girl. She hates the wild jealousy that engulfs her sometimes. He's the kindest soul she's ever met; she can't imagine him being anything but the perfect gentleman to his girl at home. She doesn't ask him though; she doesn't want to know the truth, and she doesn't want to be lied to. Both would hurt.

So she sighs into his embrace, his chest warm against her's. "What did you want to be when you were a kid?" She asks in a soft voice.

"Easy," He replies swiftly in a gravely tone, "A basketball player."

She nods into the pillow. His brother's a basketball player, she knows, she even met him once. It should have been awkward, she supposes but the darker haired Scott was gracious and kind to her. She caught the look he threw to Lucas though; wary and dark. It had made her a little ashamed.

Her fingertips trace over his chest, she can feel his heart thumping strongly beneath her skin. It calms her. She knows it's that heart that she loves that took his basketball dreams away.

"And you?" He whispers, sleep close by.

"I wanted a bakery." She laughs lightly. "See, my Mom and I used to bake, on a Sunday. She was amazing in the kitchen. I don't think I realised I wasn't until I was about fifteen."

He squeezes her tighter, knowing that any memory of her Mom is tinged with sadness. He imagines her at nine years old, facing life without her Mom, and it breaks his heart.

She doesn't say anymore. She presses her eyes shut, to shield him from any threatening tears. She wanted to be a baker, but much more than that, she wanted to be someone's wife, someone's mother; someone's world.

_Woah, oh oh  
>Love is the end<br>So let's not pretend,  
><em>'_cause love is the end_

He watches her carefully in the morning. Her eyes are puffy and she looks fragile, breakable. And he knows that he's the one to have made her that way. They fell too fast, but by then it was too late. He should never have started this dance. He should never have stopped to ask her name. He should have let her go.

Instead he introduced himself with an easy smile and a soft brush of his hand against her arm. Not once did he give any indication that he wasn't single. He didn't want to. He feared he'd lose her, before he even had her at all. It wasn't fair to her. He could see that now; the traces of the scars he'd left upon her heart. But he didn't regret it; he couldn't regret it. He would never see falling in love with Peyton Sawyer as a mistake.

She's packing her bag, haphazardly and rushed. Her thin fingers bundle and grasp at the clothes, fiercely, before she throws them carelessly into the holdall. Lucas sets down the newspaper and crosses the room to smooth his hands over her shoulders. She stills in his arms immediately. She's unmoving for a moment and then he feels the shuddering of her whole body beneath his strong hands.

"Shh," He instructs softly, pushing his own tears away. He turns her in his arms and clutches her slender body into his embrace. And he holds her there, like the whole world could crash down around them and he'd still be holding her tight, never letting go.

She doesn't want to go home. To her cold empty apartment. Back to the loneliness. He doesn't want that for her either.

Eventually she flails away from him, wilting before his eyes. She pretends to be strong, but she shouldn't have to.

"Okay," He settles his heavy blue eyes on her and reaches for her hand. "I love you."

At the words she turns her head, but hand remains inside his.

"I don't see why we can't say it, Peyt, when all I do is feel it." He begs at her with that pleading expression of his.

Her voice is a hushed whisper, broken, "Because we're not supposed to feel it. We were never meant to get this far in, Luke!"

"Maybe we were." He throws back at her, "Maybe we were supposed to share this incredible feeling. We were supposed to meet, we had to, because I can't imagine not knowing you."

Her head turns back to him and her expression crumbles, "I can't imagine not knowing _you_. I can't, Luke, I don't want to give you up."

"I will always be there for you, Peyton." He vows.

She only wishes the words were as true as the sentiment behind them.

_So I tread the only road  
>The only road I know<br>Nowhere to go, but home  
>Nowhere to go<em>

Blinking back his tears, he looks back at her, stood on the kerb, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist and the wind in her hair. And he drives away.

When he's not two blocks away, he pulls his car over and puts his head in his hands. It's three hours more before he completes the forty minute drive back to his house.

He shuffles his heavy feet up the porch steps and clicks the door open. The house is quiet and still, it's late.

"Lucas," The voice calls out from the dark, worried but irritable together.

"Hey," He drops his bag down and opens his arms to her. He can't speak right now, it would give him away. So he takes his girl up into his arms and presses a swift kiss to her temple.

A concerned frown crosses her features, "Is everything alright?"

He nods, "I'm fine. How about you, everything okay here?"

She smiles finally and together the two soon to be parents cover her swelling stomach with a hand. Her smile grows and he manages a weak return.

"We're glad you're home." She whispers.

He doesn't say the same back to her, but when she glances up there are tears in his eyes. Her eyes sparkle with admiration for the father of her child.

His mind is flooded with images of memories created over the past two days. Moments he aches for, times that he craves. A girl he misses already, with all of his heart.

_Maybe our time is up  
>But still you can't look back<br>But all the principles of love  
><em>_Don't say those words_

She pushes the cart around the store inattentively. Aside from cotton wool, bread and milk, her cart's empty. Recently she hasn't felt much inspired to cook, or eat for that matter. She's perusing the lines when she feels eyes on her.

She turns slowly and her eyes fall over a familiar face, with startling blue eyes that are looking right into her. She gasps a little, not knowing whether to run towards him or away. As it is she stay rooted to the spot, and he comes over to her.

It's suitably awkward, of course, but he's a gentleman. It's not nearly as awkward as it should be.

Cocking a smile he sidles his cart up beside hers. His is full, she notes.

"Peyton," He greets gently, almost cautiously.

Quickly she composes herself and brings a ready clear expression to her face. All she can think of in her mind is that his wife must be about here somewhere.

"How are you doing?" He asks, his brow furrowing at her nervousness. He thinks of reaching out to brush her arm, as a source of comfort, but it's not his place.

She shrugs her skinny shoulders and revolves those heavy emerald eyes of hers back at him. Her voice whispers back at him, "I'll survive."

It's a sad answer, he thinks. She should be doing more than plain surviving. He shakes his head at her, "I'm sorry. It was a dumb question."

She laughs a little, "No, Nathan, it was a dumb answer."

"There's a huge elephant here, right?" He chances, that little grin of his still wary over his lips, "Don't tell me I'm the only one who can see it."

Rolling her eyes again she finally smiles, "That elephant's pink and dancing."

"Thought so." He sighs. He can't not like the girl, and he most definitely should not be starting up conversations with her in the produce aisle, but there's something about her. It might be the fact that she really is Lucas' other half. "I should go,"

"Yeah." Her hands grip onto the cart, bracing herself against any comment he's going to leave her with. She wants to ask, so many things, but she's not sure she wants to hear his answers.

"For what it's worth," Nathan pauses and shakes his head, almost regretting his decision to say anything.

Her eyes are pressed shut but she whispers to him, "I can take it."

"He really wasn't ever happier." Nathan cringes, lightly touches his hand to her shoulder and then leaves, before he causes anymore damage. She stays there for three minutes, remembering why she didn't ask any of those questions, because the answers really were hard to take.

_Don't say those words  
>Don't say those words<br>Don't say those words_

He sits in the rocking chair, tired eyes gazing down at his baby son. The little boy yawns and nestles closer to his father. Lucas gazes out at the dark night sky, and smiles wryly.

She's out there somewhere, under that sky of theirs. His girl.

He looks down at the newborn in his arms, a single tear trailing down his cheek. "I wish I could love the two of you together."

…

**_I'm so incredibly sorry that I can't seem to write happy Leyton. But thank you for reading. If you want to be involved in something more cheerful, you could check out the forum I've created. It's a place for people to leave story prompts; ideas/lyrics/a line or two…anything, just leave a comment and maybe someone will write a fic for it! Or just come and say hi! Please spread the word too. _**

**_http:/ forum. fanfiction. net /forum/Story_Prompts/107161/_**

**_Lexie x_**


	2. In a bottle, I placed my hope

Hello Lovely People! This is the very belated second part to this story. Let it be said now that I absolutely have every intention of a third part to this too. Also anyone reading _Snapshots_, be assured that it hasn't been forgotten, I have a very long chapter coming but it still needs some work.

I'd like to thank Kellyyy for reminding me that this story was still sitting unfinished on my laptop.

Lyrics belong to _Embrace_ and there's the odd line that you may recognise from the show. I hope you enjoy.

…

_I tried to fight the feeling, the feeling took me down,_  
><em>I struggle and I lost the day you knocked me out,<em>  
><em>Now everything's got meaning and meanings bring me down,<em>  
><em>I'm watching as the screening of my life plays out.<em>

It's ironic. She hates irony. Or she hates that this is ironic. Basically she hates this damn situation and the fact that nothing can ever be simple between her and that blue eyed boy.

It happens in the park; she's there with Miles as she is most Tuesday afternoons. She takes Mondays and Tuesdays off work; on Mondays she catches up on any chores or errands and Tuesdays she spends the whole day doing whatever Miles wants, within reason. Usually when she asks he says he wants to go to the park, which they do and other times he says something only a three year old could like fly a dragon to the moon, which they almost never do.

"Mama! Higher!" Miles turns his head disappointedly when she stops pushing him on the swing.

Her attention's across the playground, her arms outstretched and frozen mid push. She can feel her heart racing and her mouth drying. It's him. She hasn't seen him for something like six years.

He's as tall and broad as she remembers, his muscular arms flexing as he leans down on the railings. His hair's styled differently but she likes it, it's young and really suits him. His eyes, dark and deep are narrowed towards the jungle gym, carefully watching the movements of a little boy with dark blond hair wearing a cute basketball jersey and long shorts.

Peyton gasps and feels her eyes widening with disbelief. All she can think is that she needs to get out of here, now. She pulls a bewildered Miles out of the swing and rests him on her hip as he squirms and protests. She rushes to the bench and collects Miles' stroller and her purse to escape the park.

"Mommy, swing!" Miles grumbles, a quiver in his voice that warns her that he's about to start crying.

"Baby," Peyton bounces him in her arm, "How about we get ice-cream? Yeah?"

She can see him debating the offer but still looking longingly at the park and all the kids still there having a good time. He reaches his arms over her shoulder and calls out kicking, "Mommy! Park! Mommy, park noooowww!"

She wrestles to hold him still as he lets out a scream which of course makes everyone glance up at her. Cringing she presses her eyes shut and pretends that she hadn't seen him stood there watching with his gorgeous squint.

It's too late of course, because as she suspected, he recognises her instantly. She's trying to bribe Miles with chocolate drops when he brushes his hand against the small of her back. She knows it's him. Of course it's him.

"Peyton?" His voice is laced with something expectant and excited.

She stands up slowly, having managed to strap Miles into the stroller and attempts a smile. She doesn't want to smile, she doesn't want to see him, she doesn't want to have to do this. Six years ago he left her; he drove away to his pregnant girlfriend, leaving her heartbroken. She's moved on now, obviously. She has a husband and a gorgeous little boy and she's in a really great place. But it took her a long time to get here.

Honestly she's imagined this moment a thousand times - even though she never wanted to experience it - but never did she imagine it this way. Her toddler is screaming bloody murder because she interrupted play time, her hair is pulled back in a messy bun and she's sure that she's wearing no make up.

"Lucas! Hi, um, hey," She shakes her head, and puts a hand to her crown, "Sorry, I'm,"

"Yeah," He nods and smiles in that way he always did, telling her that he understands. He always did understand her better than anyone she knew. He rubs a hand across the back of his neck and takes her in, "You're a Mom."

She blushes, sure that she looks like a terrible parent, "Yeah, I am, this is a very grumpy Miles, he's usually much better than this."

"That's great, I mean," Lucas trails off and she knows that he's itching to ask whether she's in a relationship as she is him. "I'm sorry, I'm just so surprised to see you, what has it been…?"

"Six years, more or less." Peyton shrugs trying to act nonchalant.

"Ye-ah," Lucas can't help but run his eyes up and down her body, she still looks fantastic. "We could, get coffee or something and catch up?"

"I really don't think that's a good idea." Peyton says in a stiff tone, trying in vain to ignore his deep blue eyes. She doesn't want to be sucked in again, goodness knows it took her long enough to get over him the last time. "I'm actually-,"

Her unprepared sentence is cut off by the sound of a pained child's scream and instantly Lucas turns to the sound, his face wide and alarmed. Peyton can tell that it's his little boy that's hurt and her heart jumps a little. She knows that feeling; your kid crying out in pain whilst you're some place that isn't right by their side protecting them.

Lucas sets off at a sprint and gathers the screaming little boy up into his strong arms, stroking the tears away gently. With the kind of skill that only comes with being a parent, he scoops up a Buzz Lightyear back pack and a discarded pair of little sneakers from the bark without taking his eyes from his son. Peyton watches from afar, her teeth biting down on her lower lip. The little boy's cries are not calming whatsoever and she finds herself beginning to panic. By the slide she can see Lucas doing the same.

"Lucas!" She calls out to him in an admittedly shaky tone, "My car's just up here, we should take him to the Emergency Room."

He just nods tightly in response and sets off at a sharp pace towards the scattering of cars at the clearing. Peyton pushes a bemused Miles forward briskly in an attempt to catch up. She reaches Lucas in the car park where he's squinting in search of her car. She smiles weakly knowing that he's looking for the Comet. It's not exactly a stroller friendly car though so she's got Julian's Civic - which she hates - for the day. She clicks the button on the keypad to unlock the white clone-like car and begins pulling Miles from the stroller as Lucas sighs into the front seat still trying to calm his hysterical son.

Peyton takes her time buckling Miles into his car seat; she's not about to become an irresponsible parent just because they're in a rush. She then jumps into the front seat and expertly pulls out of the bay, chancing a look across at the little boy who looks so much like his Daddy.

"It's his arm, I think." Lucas says in a thick voice that tells Peyton that he's terrified.

Peyton swallows, thinking of how scared Lucas must be and how frightened his little boy must be in a stranger's car with a potentially broken arm. "Like the Spurs player, right? Manu someone?"

"Ginobili." Lucas supplies swiftly, "You remember that, Josh? When Ginobili hurt his arm?"

The little boy, Josh, Peyton now knows him to be called, sniffs and grizzles in his Daddy's arms, "It hurts, Daddy."

"I know, Buddy," Lucas sighs, "We're gonna go to see a doctor and he's going to make it feel all better, okay?"

Josh just howls in response and it's all Peyton can do not to run the stop sign and cut up three drivers. She glances cautiously in her rear view mirror at her own son who stares back at her with confused brown eyes. Aside from stopping the car to scoop him up into her arms, the best she can offer is to play his favourite CD which she rarely allows. She cannot abide Disney show tunes but Miles adores them. She blames his father.

_Every day I fight these feelings,_  
><em>For your sake I will hide the real thing,<em>  
><em>You can run all your life; for mine, I will chase...<em>

_You should never fight your feelings,_  
><em>When your very bones believe them,<em>  
><em>You should never fight your feelings,<em>  
><em>But you have to follow nature's law<em>

When they reach the hospital Lucas shoots out of the car barely before Peyton's come to a stop. She watches with muted eyes as he rushes into the ER and then circles for a parking space, finally finding one about ten minutes walk away from the hospital. She even considers taking Miles' stroller in with her, it's that far.

Instead she sets him on her hip and pulls his little Mickey Mouse rucksack onto the opposite shoulder. "You okay, Kid?"

Miles juts his bottom lip and presses his body against her, being abnormally clingy.

Peyton strokes his soft hair and hums in what she hopes is a calming manner, "We're just going to go inside here and see how Josh is, because he hurt his arm but he's going to be fine. It's just a boo-boo."

Miles nods against her and she bounces him lightly even though he's getting far too heavy. "…_on candystriped legs, the spiderman comes…softly through the shadow of the evening sun_…" Peyton murmurs the only Cure lyrics her son likes, purely because it mentions 'spiderman', in the hope that it will distract him from all the craziness the ER has to offer.

It's of little aid though, he gasps against her and his eyes grow wide at the sight of the various injured and sick parties scattered about the waiting room. Peyton locates Lucas easily; balancing a slightly quieter Josh and a clipboard.

"Hey," She says softly as she slinks down into the seat beside him.

He looks up through tired looking eyes, "I can't even remember when he had his shots, I'm a terrible father. Not to mention that Lindsey is going to kill me,"

"Kids get hurt, Lucas, it's what they do. I think they enjoy panicking us." Peyton assures him firmly, "He'll have had all of the necessary, I'm sure. It's just a precautionary measure."

Lucas scrubs a hand over his features and sighs, "You're right. I'm sorry, it's just so,"

"I know." Peyton tells him with a swift nod as she feels Miles' head drop onto his chest in a way that tells her he's asleep. "You want me to call anyone?"

Wincing, Lucas shakes his head, "Lindsey's in New York, I'll call her later, she'll only panic."

Peyton nods mutely.

"You don't have to stay. In fact you should probably go; they say these places are full of germs." Lucas says.

"Miles has had all his immunisations, we'll be fine. Besides, you're going to need to get home." Peyton reasons.

"But your husband," Lucas argues lamely, his eyes on her ringed finger. He wants her to stay.

Peyton shakes her head and her curls bounce with the movement, "He's working from home. He actually prefers when we stay out all day. Miles isn't exactly quiet and I like loud music."

"I remember." Lucas murmurs softly.

She taps out a quick message to Julian explaining that her friend's kid may have broken his arm and they're at the emergency room but Miles is fine where he is and then they wait. Time seems to stretch out forever in the waiting room; an hour feeling almost as long as a non-eventful week. To pass the time they try to comfort Josh the best they can and share polite conversation, as their eyes ache over each other; a silent conversation of lost love and what ifs.

When a nurse appears and calls Josh's name they both jump a little. The kind faced nurse just smiles, "Mom, Dad, do you want to follow me?"

"Oh," Peyton shakes her head and begins to protest at the slip. "I'm just the ride home."

The nurse nods apologetically but Peyton can already feel the guilt seeping through her skin. It wasn't wrong to bring Lucas and Josh to the ER, but it's wrong that her heart races whenever Lucas accidentally brushes his skin against her or looks to her thankfully. She's married now. It's different. She has a son. It's so different from before.

But it doesn't hurt any less.

_I'll live with never knowing, if knowing's gonna change,_  
><em>I'll stop the feeling growing, I will stay away,<em>  
><em>Like a broken record stuck before a song,<em>  
><em>A million beginnings, none of them the one.<em>

When Lucas reappears a while later, Josh is sporting a cast and a proud watery smile on his tear-stained face. Peyton pushes a smile to her face and collects a still docile Miles up as she stands, "Wow, Buddy, your cast looks awesome."

Josh nods in agreement and admires the blue cast, "Blue's my favourite."

"He did great." Lucas says and Peyton can hear the relief in his voice. She reaches out and squeezes his arm sympathetically before she has the chance to think of what she's doing.

"Okay, we should get out of here." She declares and leads them back to the car which somehow seems even further away now, Miles heavy in her arms.

"Are you okay with him?" Lucas asks, indicating towards Miles as she shifted his weight again. "I could take him if you like?"

"He's fine." She assures through a soft smile, despite the aching in her arms. She's not going to blur the lines between their two families.

Josh rides in the back with Miles this time, using a cushion as a booster seat and is soon snoring along with Miles, exhausted from his ordeal. And somehow, this journey's more awkward than the first. Peyton tries to remedy with music that's not from the Disney catalogue but soon realises it's not the silence that's insufferable, it's all the things they're leaving unsaid.

Lucas glances over at her, watching as she taps her fingers on the steering wheel and chews on her lip. He chuckles a little and she turns, her eyes sharp and ever so slightly amused, "What?"

"You haven't changed a bit." He remarks, his lips unturned in amusement.

She laughs, "I have."

"I can't believe we haven't run into each other in six years." Lucas shakes his head.

"I've been right here in the city," She shrugs a little, "Well, I moved a couple of times, I was right in the city centre and now we're by the ocean. You're still at that place by the school?"

"Oh, no," Lucas coughed a little, "We sold up after we split, I've got a smaller place just on the other side of the bridge. There's a stream out back, Josh and I fish some weekends."

Peyton's jaw drops and she frowns, "Hold on, you and Lindsey broke up?"

"Ye-ah, we wanted so many different things. The only reason we were together in the end was Joshua." Lucas sighed. "I didn't want it for him but he knows that his Mom and Dad adore him. Lindsey's with some career type, he's a journalist or architect or something. She seems happy."

"I'm so sorry." Peyton whispers, once again cursing cruel irony. Of course he's available, now that she's happily married.

He shrugs, "I'm only sorry that you're not single too."

"That's not fair." She bites back.

"No," Lucas agrees, "I shouldn't have said that."

Peyton presses her lips together tightly and takes a deep breath in through he nose. Lucas reaches over for her arm but she pushes him away with a look, "I think it's best if you just give me the directions to your place."

_Every day I fight these feelings,_  
><em>For your sake I will hide the real thing,<em>  
><em>You can run all your life; for mine, I will chase...<em>

_You should never fight your feelings,_  
><em>When your very bones believe them,<em>  
><em>You should never fight your feelings,<em>  
><em>But you have to follow nature's law.<em>

Peyton's sitting on the edge of her desk when he strolls into her office, a smirk painted across his lips. She glances up and her eyes widen with surprise. For six years they've coincided in the city, he in a suburban neighbourhood and she within the busy lights and then to the quieter outskirts by the ocean, never crossing paths. Now her eyes are falling over him for the second time in as many days.

She sets down her notepad and pen before crossing her arms over her stomach, "What are you doing here, Lucas?"

"I wanted to be back in Peyton Sawyer's bedroom?" He teases, referencing the name of her record label, a tribute to her once red teenage bedroom.

She scoffs a little, "It's Baker. I'm Peyton Baker now. I'm married."

"I know." He says softly, almost so that she doesn't hear. "And it's my fault."

Her eyes harden and she's glad that on this occasion, neither of their sons are there to witness their exchange. She has so much she wants to spill from her lips, words that were formed in her heart. Words that are like icicles; sharp, cold and patient. Words that she's afraid to say because they're so filled with passionate resentment that she knows he'll translate them easily. He'll realise that a part of her still loves him.

She gulps down the thought and narrows her eyes, "What are you really doing here? I have work to do."

"This place is amazing, Peyton." He shakes his head in awe and steps further into the room. "A record label, it's incredible."

"Stop doing that." She sighs.

He inclines his head questioningly, "Doing what?"

"What we always do," She rounds her desk, creating a barrier between them, "Meandering away from the point…delaying the inevitable,"

His eyebrows lift in surprise, possibly shock, "Is that what we did? Delayed the inevitable? That's not how I remember it."

"It's what it was, Lucas. Our whole…relationship was just a prolonged heartache waiting for you to return to your wife." Peyton shrugs, cursing the wetness in her eyes.

"I don't have a wife, never have." He returns, setting down a brown paper package on her desk and moving around the antique piece.

"Don't be pedantic." She says sharply, as he picks up a framed photograph from her desk. The picture's from a trip to Disneyland, in it she, Julian and Miles are all wearing Mickey Mouse ears and smiling in front of Cinderella's castle. Miles still hasn't stopped talking about it.

Lucas drinks in the picture without focusing at all on the faces, all he can see is what he could have had. As it is, he's separated and raising a six year old primarily alone. He aches for family photos like the one in his hand, more so he wishes that he could have photos like this with Peyton. "You're happy."

"You don't need to sound so disappointed." She shoots back and pulls the frame from his hand, setting it back down on the desk. "I don't know why you came here, but if it's to rehash the past you're six years too late. Julian is a wonderful man and Miles is…he's everything, okay, Luke? Whatever you came for, you won't find it here."

"Tell me you don't think of us." Lucas says in a gravely tone, his eyes searching hers, "Tell me you don't remember the way it felt when we were together. Tell me you don't wonder sometimes."

Peyton points a ringed finger forcefully, "You don't get to do that."

He swallows as his head bounces in a nod, "I'm sorry but seeing you in the park yesterday, it felt like fate, Peyton."

"No," She laughs a little at his outlandish interpretation, "That wasn't fate. It was bad luck."

"How can you think that?" He asks, sounding genuinely taken aback. "If you hadn't been there I don't know how I'd have gotten Josh to the hospital."

She rolls her eyes, "If I hadn't been there you might have been watching him better."

He recoils a little at the sharpness of her words and she looks away, ashamed. "I came here to say thank you, for going out of your way yesterday. I shouldn't have come."

"Lucas," She calls out to him as he rushes toward the door, "You're a great Dad. I didn't mean it."

"I'm sorry," He says, wounded, "for thinking there was something left of us."

Chewing on her lip she nods, refraining from dashing over to him to stroke his jaw or take his hand to comfort him. "Don't come here again, Luke."

"I'm just being nice to you." He says.

"Yeah, well it needs to stop." She replies stiffly, not really meaning a single word.

She wants him to hold her and whisper weighty declarations in her ear. She wants to tease him for his habits and tickle her hands over his chest. She wants to argue with him about music and debate the words of long dead writers over Sunday morning coffee. She wants every sinful thought she's having to come true but she won't let it happen.

Instead she watches him as he leaves, wondering if she'll ever see the blue eyed boy again.

Once the door clicks closed she falls into her seat and covers her face with her hands momentarily. When her phone begins to ring, she drops her hands and remembers the brown paper package sitting amongst a mess of demo CDs. Ignoring the phone she picks up the parcel and reaches her hand inside. There are reams of paper fixed together with a wide bulldog clip, on the first page there's a post-it note, _Unpublished and unfinished, L._

_I wrote her letters and tried to send them,_  
><em>In a bottle I placed my hope,<em>  
><em>And it's the last will of good intentions,<em>  
><em>Seek your will, you'll give it to me,<em>  
><em>Don't make me wait,<em>  
><em>You build me up, now take down,<em>  
><em>But I will stand my ground,<em>  
><em>And I'm inspired when I'm found.<em>

Peyton falls asleep that night with Lucas' words in her hands. Later when Julian returns home from a black tie event he smiles at the sight and takes the pages from her limp grasp. He leans down and kisses her forehead and she shifts a little in her sleep. He glances briefly over the writing and blinks in surprise, having expecting it to have been a band's contract or a set list or something else relating to the label, not a story.

He frowns a little and pads back through to the living room to pour a drink and read it over. He gets sent a lot of scripts from hopeful writers who want to see their work on the big screen but they're not usually like this, not written like a novel. He reads for a long time, making pencilled notes and imagining the production of the Romeo and Juliet like story. It's close to dawn when he finally slips into bed beside his wife.

"You're back late," She mumbles sleepily, her green eyes fighting to stay open.

"Sorry, I was reading." He leans over and kisses her on the lips, sweeping some of her wayward curls from her face, "That script you had, it's beautiful."

Peyton blinks awake at the mention of the non-script she'd been reading in bed, "What?"

"You read it, didn't you?" Julian whispers into the dark, "I liked the male point of view and it just felt real, the way that he watched her from afar for all those years after the affair, making sure she was okay but not wanting to hurt her by speaking to her? That's a love story."

Sitting up in bed, Peyton reaches for the lamp, "Hold on, he watched her from afar? You've read the whole thing?"

"Well, I've skimmed it, it's written like a novel. The prose is gorgeous though." Julian smiles continuously, "He watches her and waits for the moment when she finally needs him, then he saves her. You should read it, Peyt,"

She swallows, suddenly wide awake, "Um, yeah, I mean, you really like it?"

"I do." Julian frowns, "But I couldn't see any contact details, did you put them down somewhere?"

"There wasn't a note, only that." Peyton whispers, pressing her hand against her husband's chest, the cool of her wedding band between them. She wants to run away or cry or kill Lucas Scott but she can't, so she's going to remind herself of why she married the man beside her. "I'm glad you're home, Julian."

_You should never fight your feelings,_  
><em>When your very bones believe them,<em>  
><em>If you let them show you'll keep them,<em>  
><em>I know you're hurt but soon you'll rise again,<em>  
><em>Again, again, again, again, again, again, again..<em>

She crashes into Lucas' house like a tornado, her eyes alive with fire. Lucas walks in after her, bouncing and somehow hesitating with every step, "You're mad."

"Damn right I'm mad! You watch me? Is that true? You've been watching and waiting for the right time to swoop in and take me from my husband?" She rages.

"That's not it." Lucas tells her. "I won't say I haven't followed your career or noticed you sometimes but only to make sure you're okay. I care about you Peyton, I always have."

"Julian read it! He read your story." She reveals, and the blood drains from his face.

Lucas pushes a hand through his hair and shakes his head, "Peyton, I'm so sorry. Did he…?"

"He thought it was a script, he gets sent a lot of those." She says as she paces the floor, "But you probably know that since you've been watching our lives!"

"It's not like that, at all." Lucas implores, stilling her with his hands on her shoulders.

Her watery eyes pour out to him, "I want it to stop, all of it. Any watching or checking up, any notion you have that we could end up together, it stops!"

"Peyton,"

"No! Is it not enough that my son and husband are now a part of this? I don't want Julian to know and I don't want any kind of threat to my family. We're happy, Lucas, really, really happy! And it doesn't matter about what we could have been because that's gone. It's in the past and it needs to stay there." Peyton says, sobbing a little, "I'm okay, so just leave it alone."

"What if I can't? What if I can't let go of us?" Lucas shoots back and she stops stock still.

"You already did! God, Lucas! The reason we were just some dirty little secret rather than a fairytale was you! Because _you_ let us go. I was holding on for dear life! You were my whole entire world, I gave you every part of me and then you threw me away. I fell apart after I lost you and it took me a really long time to move on. Finally I'm happier than ever and then you show up saying you can't let go!" Peyton cries at him, "You don't get to do this! You don't."

Lucas closes his eyes at her admissions, as the truth tumbles free. He hates himself for breaking her, for causing her so much pain. "I'm sorry, Peyton, I'm sorry."

"This is so ironic." Peyton groans, sinking onto the couch.

"Isn't it?" Lucas' mouth twitches.

She sighs, "I hate irony. It feels like punishment, like we did something wrong in a previous life."

Lucas lets her words sink into his skin, realising that she's saying that were it not for Julian, she'd go back to him. He sits on the coffee table in front of her and takes her hands inside his, "I should have been a man and chosen you when I had the chance."

Tears sail down her cheeks as she listens, "You did it for your son, for your family. I probably wouldn't have thought to highly of you if you'd chosen me. I'd have been thrilled, but ashamed."

"I'm so glad you're happy, Peyton." He says, using the pads of his thumbs to swipe her tears away. "More than anything that's what I wanted for you."

"This is goodbye, Lucas." She tells him in a shaking tone but with authority in her voice. "This is it, it hurts too much, it hurts both of us. Don't watch out for me anymore, it must kill you to watch that relationship, I know it would have killed me. So we end it now, forever."

Lucas winces, as though experiencing a physical pain as well as emotional. "Know that whatever happens, I love you, Peyton. Always have, always will."

"I know." She says through a hushed whisper, "I know."

"And I'll never be able to properly tell you everything I feel, but you're every one of my dreams. I just wish we'd had the chance." He shakes his head, sure that the words are doing more harm than good but he needs to say them. "And what remains in the aftermath of everything is only you, the girl whose art and passion and beauty changed my life. The realisation that we had always been meant for each other came too late. Every instinct I'd felt to the contrary had simply been a denial of the following truth…I am now, and always will be, in love with Peyton Sawyer."

"Your words are beautiful." Peyton compliments softly.

"Don't go, not yet." He requests but she just shakes her head and stands to go, her whole frame shaking slightly with the enormity of what's happened.

She reaches out and strokes his jaw with her left hand, "I love you, Lucas Scott."

Lucas watches from the doorway as she walks away, beautifully and tragically out of his life for the last time.

_You should never fight your feelings,_  
><em>When your very bones believe them,<em>  
><em>You should never fight your feelings,<em>  
><em>I have to follow nature's law.<em>

…

Again I'm sorry for the unhappy Leyton but please know that this is part of a trilogy so there's one last part to come, Lexie :)


	3. All I've wanted, just sped right past me

Part Three! I apologies profusely for the wait. I hate that I'm not a consistent updater.

Lyrics belong to the wonderful Snow Patrol, the song's Signal Fire. Hope you like, Lexie :)

_…_

_The perfect words never crossed my mind_  
><em>'Cause there was nothing in there but you<em>  
><em>I felt every ounce of me screaming out<em>  
><em>But the sound was trapped deep in me<em>

Lucas grins as he always does when his Little League Football team roars in the manner of their namesake; The Tigers, their little faces smiling up at their coach. He gives them a short round of applause for their admittedly haphazard training session and tells them he'll see them next week. He then watches as they rush over to their waiting parents with stories of their progress on the tips of their tongues. Only when he sees that each of the kids has been safely collected does he begin to gather up all of the sports equipment.

He's been coaching Little League for about six years now, since Josh first joined a team. Now of course, at twelve years old, Josh has grown out of the lower leagues. When Lucas coaches, Josh hangs out on the nearby basketball court with a few of his friends, in clear sight of his Dad's coaching. Then afterwards they always head to the frozen yogurt place, sometimes just the two of them but more often than not with a few of Josh's friends. Lucas doesn't mind though, it reminds him of his own childhood where he spent his summers on a riverside basketball court with his best friends.

He's about to call Josh over for their training night tradition when a woman from halfway across the field waves and calls his name from behind a frown. Lucas drops the cones he'd been collecting down on the grass and throws a small smile to the woman who's tiptoeing across the grass in a pair of high heels. He holds out his hand in greeting which she grasps quickly when she reaches him.

"Lucas Scott?" She asks, pushing her sunglasses up onto the top of her head and smiling a dimpled grin back at him.

"You've found me." Lucas nods through a chuckle. "I run football, baseball and basketball. Ages six to ten. Girls and boys are welcome."

She waves her hand dismissively and laughs, "Oh, honey, no. I'm not here for sports. You and I need to have a little chat, if that's okay? It's kind of important."

Lucas frowns a little but there's something about the sparkle in her eye that makes him shrug and nod. "Okay, my son and I have a Wednesday night tradition though, how do you feel about frozen yogurt?"

"I like it very much." She nods, watching him carefully with her narrowed hazel eyes. "I'm Brooke Davis, by the way."

The name feels familiar to Lucas in some way, but he can't place it. With having so many kids come through his teams though, it's hard to keep track of names. Brooke's face though is one that he's sure he'd remember, had he ever met her before.

Lucas calls Josh over and Brooke shakes his hand and introduces herself. Josh frowns and blushes back at her, then with a nudge from his Dad, he introduces himself as Joshua Scott.

Lucas grins and ruffles his son's hair, "Brooke's going to come for ice-cream with us, okay?"

Josh shrugs and bounces his basketball contently as they walk over to the food court across the park. Lucas turns his attention back to Brooke, his practised squint studying her face carefully.

Without warning she laughs a little and then covers her mouth with her hand, "Sorry. I've heard about that squint, I just never realised how accurate the description was."

Inclining his head questioning, Lucas clears his throat, "And can I ask who it was that told you about it? Only I'm a little confused, a lot confused actually."

Brooke takes a deep breath, and they pause in front of the frozen yogurt place. Brooke lifts her gaze slowly, "My friend. Peyton."

She watches the realisation pass over his features; hope, then confusion and very quickly worry. "Oh, God,"

"She's fine!" Brooke holds her hands in a stop gesture, telling him not to panic. "She's, well, she's okay."

Lucas' squint returns and he points between himself and Brooke, "Hold up, does she know you're here? Only I'm pretty sure she'd be mad if she knew something was going on behind her back."

Brooke laughs a little, knowing how her best friend is, "She doesn't know what's good for her sometimes." Their eyes meet briefly and she reads something in his that she'd been wondering for a while. "You know about Julian don't you?"

Hanging his head, Lucas nods slowly, "Yeah, I do,"

_He hears about it through the vaguest of whispers in a coffee house without any kind of substantiated evidence. Believing that it can't be true, because, well, it can't, he heads to a news stand. There he buys a couple of newspapers and a few arts magazines then returns to the coffee place and his preferred seat in the wide window._

_His eyes scour the pages of the newspapers first but he finds nothing which soothes his stomach somewhat. He moves onto the magazines and flicks through them quickly, squinting over the glossy articles._

_And then he swears his heart skips a beat._

_It's there, decorating the pages like a public viewing gallery into Peyton's life. Lucas covers his mouth with his hand and forces himself to read the obituary that opens with the details of the hit and run on a busy street just a few blocks away. He drinks in the words, his mouth growing drier as his eyes get wetter._

_The last time he saw her was two years or so ago when she walked out of his house and out of his life. He still thinks of her everyday; of the life he lost with her. He misses her. Everything about her. He misses her from her blonde curls to her dark painted toe nails; every inch of her. But he's stayed away, true to his word, just as she requested._

_It's been difficult, knowing that somewhere on the other side of the city his girl - and yes, he thinks of her as his girl, despite her being anything but - is living out their life with another man. He's coped though, with the help of Josh keeping him going, and some wise words from his Mom about the greatest act of love being sacrifice._

_His heart is hammering in his chest at the words leaping from the magazine. Peyton's husband is dead_.

_He panics instantly, thinking of her complex of people always leaving her. Of how alone and aggrieved she must be. Of how unthinkable the pain must be to lose the person she chose to spend the rest of her life with._

_Lucas stands and brushes the tears from his eyes. He has to do something._

They queue for yogurt in silence, Brooke bouncing from foot to foot anxiously and Lucas…brooding. Josh eyes them warily but doesn't say much. He's long grown out of the questioning age and with parents like Lucas and Lindsey, he's quite accustomed to musing silences. When they reach the front of the queue Josh chooses his favourite chocolate brownie concoction and for Lucas he orders black cherry. He turns to Brooke and asks what she'd like she shakes her head and points to her purse but Lucas pushes her money away.

She smiles, and roams her eyes over the flavours on offer, "Okay, I'll try toffee, thanks."

"Toffee's good." Josh confirms as he pours sprinkles over his own dessert.

Brooke scrunches her nose and grins, joining him at the counter when the assistance passes her toffee tub over. Josh chooses a booth that looks over the park and they all take a seat, Lucas' eyes on Brooke the entire time. She can tell he's desperate to know why she came all the way across the city in search of him.

"So, you know about Julian," Brooke nods, her eyes flitting between Lucas and Josh, wondering if his young ears should be subject to a conversation about Peyton.

"He's okay." Lucas assures her as Josh takes a comic book from his bag and disappears behind it's pages. Lucas turns his attention back to Brooke and heaves a deep sigh, "I read about Julian the day after it happened. I couldn't believe it."

"But you didn't call round." Brooke takes the information in as she glides her spoon from her mouth. She doesn't seem mad that Lucas didn't show his face and he's glad. He's second-guessed the decision a thousand times. All he wanted to do was help Peyton but he doubted that seeing her ex would help her in any way with grieving for her husband. So he stayed away, like he'd promised. Brooke's sharp hazel eyes fall on him again, questioningly, "It was you though, wasn't it?"

He scoffs a little, "What was?"

"All those little care packages." She says lightly, "The CDs on the doorstep; mix-tapes of songs that roused her from her misery? The set of artist's pencils? And that Disney comfort blanket for Miles? That was you too. The blue checkered one with Mickey Mouse in the corner? He used to clench that up in his little hands so tightly."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Lucas says stiffly back to her.

Brooke shakes her head and Lucas is almost sure that he sees a tear in her eye. She speaks again in a distinctly huskier tone, "You know I was never your biggest fan."

He almost laughs, "I can imagine."

"I could have killed you for breaking her heart like that." Brooke says and then her eyes widen when she sees Josh eyeing her curiously. She blushes and waves her hand, "I don't mean that."

"It's okay." Lucas says, nodding softly towards Joshua. "I deserve that. Completely."

Josh frowns, "What did you do?"

"Ah," Lucas' face twists with unease. "I wasn't too nice to Brooke's friend."

Realising that his Dad's unlikely to elaborate further, Josh returns to his magazine.

Brooke removes her pout and waves her hand dismissively, "That was a long time ago though. You were young and you had other priorities, I get that, I might not agree with what you did, but I understand. And I can tell how much you still love her."

At that she smiles a little. Brooke has always adored love stories.

"Peyton made it pretty clear the last time I saw her that she didn't want to see me again." Lucas tells her, hearing the grit in his own voice.

"She said that when she was married!" Brooke cries out. "Julian died four years ago. I think she deserves some happiness again."

Lucas sighs and leans back in his seat, "She's always known where I am. If she'd wanted to find me, she would have."

Brooke shakes her head and her chocolate curls bounce with the movement, "She doesn't know what's good for her, trust me. I orchestrated her first meeting with Julian; she didn't think she wanted to date and she married him."

Lucas feels a guilty kind of shame fall over him when he pockets the information that Peyton hadn't wanted to date Julian in the first place. Against his better judgement, Lucas rests his elbow on the table and rests his chin on top, "What are you planning?"

_All I've wanted just sped right past me_  
><em>While I was rooted fast to the earth<em>  
><em>I could be stuck here for a thousand years<em>  
><em>Without your arms to drag me out<em>

Peyton sits behind her desk at the gallery, sketching nothing in particular and humming along to the radio. It's a quiet day and she's thinking of shutting up shop early and heading down to the beachfront for an early dinner with Miles. It's a luxury she has with the gallery that she never had with the record label; flexibility of hours. She loved the label but it was to much to handle as a single parent. With the help of Julian's insurance money, she and Miles have been able to live comfortably with the smaller income from the gallery and enjoy a lot more quality time together.

She taps her pencil as she contemplates the idea of shutting up shop, turning her head to smile over at her nine year old who seems miraculously content with his pile of comics and iPod on full blast. She thinks he deserves a little more excitement than hanging out on beanbag at his Mom's gallery all day though.

She's about to grab for her purse when the bell above the door chimes and someone walks inside. She glances up briefly and notices a tall figure padding between a few of her pieces. She smiles and returns to the piece she's sketching out of Miles as a toddler from memory. Generally she leaves her potential customers be; she hates the idea of talking anyone into buying something, she wants them to buy something because they love it.

As she sketches out Miles' wild curls on the page, she hears footsteps approaching the desk. And she hates to be rude, she does, but she's shading Miles' hair perfectly so she doesn't quite look up from her pad. "Can I help you out? Were you looking for something in particular?"

The man chuckles and her neck prickles with nostalgia. "I think I've found just what I'm looking for,"

She gasps up and her wide emerald eyes meet his cool blue. They're exactly as she remembers them; calm but engaged, assured yet caring. She stutters a little as she sits up in her seat and pushes her hair out of her face, "_Lucas_?"

Honestly, she hadn't expected to feel such a rush of excitement at seeing him again. She almost feels guilty but then she tells herself not to be so hard on herself, Brooke keeps telling her not to feel guilty for her happiness. "How have you been, Luke? How's Josh?"

"Twelve going on twenty." Lucas chuckles, his eyes creasing at the corners. It's great seeing her again. "Brooke came and found me, I hope it's okay me dropping in like this."

Peyton thumbs the wedding ring that hangs from a long gold chain around her neck. She looks at the boy she has so much history with, her words caught in her throat. He looks as good as she remembers, in a powder blue shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow and a conflicted kind of smirk. The last time she saw him she recalls being mad as hell at him and telling him to stay out of her life. She doesn't regret cutting him out, she can't, because she had Julian and she owed it to their marriage not to be thinking about another man. And the next two years with Julian and Miles were probably two of the best of her life, before she…lost him.

"It's been a long time." Peyton says lightly, her eyes falling heavily over Lucas.

He nods slowly, his eyes on the ring she's holding between finger and thumb, "A lot's happened."

Peyton chews on her lip and glances back at Miles quickly; her heart always breaks more for him than herself. She lost her Mom when she was young, so she knows how devastating it is to lose a parent, she would do anything on earth to undo that for her little boy.

"You know, I can go if this is too weird." Lucas says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. He waits for a moment and when she doesn't say anything he nods slowly and moves towards the door.

Peyton closes her eyes for a second and then calls out his name. Her tone's so shaky that even Miles looks up from what he's doing.

"Don't go." She says in a whisper. She takes a deep breath and lifts her glassy green eyes to meet his concerned blues. "I'm not saying…I don't know what I'm saying actually…but don't go."

Lucas turns around slowly, smiling grimly, "I'm sorry that we're meeting under these circumstances."

"Me too." Peyton nods. It's never been simple with her and Lucas. "We lost Julian four years ago though and maybe Brooke's right, maybe it's time for me to move on."

Inappropriately perhaps, Lucas reaches out and covers her hand with his. "It's okay if you're not ready. I owe you as much time as you could ever need, but at the very least I want to be there for you in some way. I don't want you to think that because I didn't call or email or come find you that I didn't care, because it was never like that at all. It was because I did care. I nearly broke my promise so many times because I was worried that you were falling apart, even though I've always known that Peyton Sawyer is stronger than that…I just never wanted you to have to go through that alone."

Peyton's eyes glide over his hand, covering hers. She can't lie to herself and pretend it doesn't feel amazing to have someone there, like a safety net ready to catch her. She almost dissolves into his arms there and then, but as he'd said, she was stronger than that. "It's Baker though, you know."

He nods graciously, "I know."

She smiles slightly at that; of course he knows. Julian has been between them for the last six years, just as Lindsey was between them twelve years ago. And she feels like she's betraying Julian even for thinking of seeing Lucas but this is the first clear shot she and Lucas have ever had. In her life she's lost a lot of people, one of them being the man stood before her on two separate occasions, and she feels like being in her thirties it's definitely time to stop pushing people out.

"Here," Peyton takes one of her business cards from her desk and scrawls her cell on the back. "We should go out for drinks,"

"I'd like that." Lucas nods and pushes the card into his wallet.

"But on one condition," Peyton says carefully, lifting her eyes to meet Lucas', "We do this like we're starting afresh; no grudges and no questioning what happened before. We made the choices we did at the time, and if we can't get over that then there's no point in even trying."

Lucas nods in agreement, "It'll be like a first date."

Peyton smiles a little as he walks backwards, towards the door, almost as though he doesn't want to take his eyes from her just yet.

"Brooke has a theory," Peyton says slowly, her eyes hooding, "about these care packages I got after losing Julian; lots of music I loved and artist's tools. She thinks you left them,"

Lucas arched his brow, "And what do you think?"

Peyton gave him a tilted smirk, "I've known from the start. It was such a Lucas-thing to do. Thank you. You have no idea how much it meant, how much you helped us."

"You're welcome." Lucas smiles genuinely, glad that in the smallest way he could be there in her darkness. "I'll call you."

She watches as he walks out of the door and across the street, one hand loosely pushed into the pocket of his jeans. She feels her lips curve into a small smile and lets it grow. She hasn't felt this good in a long time; not since she brushed hands with Lucas the first time they met or when Julian gave her a lop-sided smirk from across the room at a party.

Peyton jumps a little when her cell starts ringing, breaking her from her thoughts. Miles throws her a quizzical look and rolls his dark brown eyes. Peyton shakes her head and takes the call. "Hello?"

"Hey, Blondie,"

_There you are standing right in front of me_  
><em>There you are standing right in front of me<em>  
><em>All this fear falls away to leave me naked<em>  
><em>Hold me close 'cause I need you to guide me to safety<em>

Miles watches, with a mix of intrigue and extreme confusion as his Aunt Brooke fusses around his Mom. It's the night of 'The Date' as Brooke keeps referring to it as.

His Mom has been on dates before, most of them because Brooke's set her up, but Miles hasn't seen her like this before. Her eyes are sparkling and she keeps dragging her teeth along her lower lip like she does when she's nervous.

"Doesn't your Mom look pretty, Miles?" Brooke asks, spinning the hem of Peyton's dress.

He nods back, his eyes fixed on Peyton's face, "Mama always looks pretty."

She breaks into a wide grin at his words and crouches down in front of him, "Thank you, Baby Boy. You know that you're always going to be my Number One guy, don't you? I love you more than you can even imagine."

"More than Mickey and Minnie Mouse?" Miles questions.

"Without a doubt." Peyton replies in a heartbeat.

Miles chews on the inside of his cheeks, "What about Tarzan and Jane? Or Donald and Daisy? Or Mr Incredible and Elastigirl? Or Simba and Nala? Or the Princess and the Frog?"

Cupping his chin in her hand, Peyton presses a kiss to his nose, "More than all of them put together. And you matter to me more than anyone else in the world. If you don't want me to go out, I'll stay in with you."

"No," Miles inclines his head adorably, "you look real happy, Mama."

"You are going to make some girl very happy one day." Brooke squeals and claps her hands together. "You, gorgeous man, are my date for the night."

Miles collapses into giggles as Brooke begins to terrorise him with tickles as they roll over Peyton's bed, thrashing and kicking. Rather than rolling her eyes as she usually would at them, Peyton smiles widely; she lucked out with her best friend and her baby boy.

The ringing of the doorbell cuts her from her thoughts and she feels the familiar rush of excitement trill down her spine.

"He's here!" Brooke announces excitedly, wriggling to a seated position and fixing her hair with her hands.

The three of them; Peyton, Miles and Brooke, hurry down the stairs in a flurry and then stop at the front door to share a look. Finally Brooke nudges her best friend with her hip, "Go get him, P Sawyer."

"P Baker." Peyton corrects, out of habit.

"You're P Sawyer tonight, okay?" Brooke tells her softly and pushes a lock of hair behind Peyton's ear.

Peyton rolls her eyes and pulls open the door, feeling Miles and Brooke's eyes all over her. She quickly forgets about their prying though when her eyes fall over Lucas.

Smirking, Lucas glides his eyes over his date for the night, "God, I've missed those legs."

Peyton laughs, embarrassed and thrilled all at once and allows Lucas to kiss her on the cheek and take her by the hand. She glances back at Brooke and Miles and gives them a little wave.

"Have her back by midnight, Lucas!" Brooke calls after them and Peyton rolls her eyes.

Lucas takes it in good humour and laughs. He leads them down the path to a Mustang waiting on the kerb where he pulls open the door for her, "Take a ride with me, Blondie?"

_No, I won't wait forever_  
><em>No, I won't wait forever<em>

_In the confusion and the aftermath_  
><em>You are my signal fire<em>  
><em>The only resolution and the only joy<em>  
><em>Is the faint spark of forgiveness in your eyes<em>

Lucas pulls up outside of a little cafe that almost looks out of place on the busy street. It's a far cry from the generic chains that are on every corner; it's quaint and homely, even from the outside. There's a hand-painted sign above the door and strings of fairy lights framing the windows, it's cute as hell.

"This is where you're taking me?" Peyton asks, an amused lilt to her voice.

"Not quite." He says mysteriously, his lips curved at the corners. He takes her by the hand and knots his fingers through hers. Ordinarily on a first date she wouldn't let someone be quite so forward but of course this isn't a regular first date. He leads her through the door and Peyton's eyes smile in the appearance of the little cafe.

There's an old-school jukebox in the corner of the room and tables with mismatched chairs and little vases of daisies for centrepieces. The aroma of coffee fills the space and the sound of friendly chatter compliments the chosen song playing in the background. Peyton feels at home instantly.

"I like it here." Peyton says to Lucas, wondering what part the place has to play in their date.

"Yeah?" Lucas laughs, "Haley will love you for that."

"Who am I going to love and for what?" Asks a petite honey blonde who's stood on the other side of the counter. She smiles up at Lucas as she makes a coffee for a customer.

Lucas nods his head towards his date, "Hales, this is Peyton. Peyton, my best friend and sister-in-law Haley."

Haley sets down the coffee cup and gasps, her eyes grinning at her best friend. "This is_ the_ Peyton? The girl you haven't shut up about for-,"

"Dude!" Lucas leans over the counter and pushes his friend playfully. Everything Haley is about to say is true of course, but he doesn't want to scare Peyton away from anything because he seems like an obsessive maniac. "Ignore her, please."

Peyton only laughs, thinking it's cute the rapport that Lucas has with his best friend. She smiles over at Haley, "This place is amazing."

"Thank you!" Haley smiles, "Now I'm going to let you guys get on because Lucas is looking at me like he may kill me if I say anything else."

Lucas nods at her through a squint, "You're lucky you can read my mind."

"Whatever." Haley jests, "Get out of here."

Lucas rolls his eyes and pulls Peyton along by the hand around the counter and to a little flight of stairs. He steps aside to let her go first and she looks to him curiously before skipping up the steps and onto the open rooftop. She laughs and walks between the mini-golf obstacles, her hand brushing over the makeshift props.

"Did you bring me here to play golf?" Peyton asks, her eyebrows arched.

"No," Lucas shakes his head, chuckling, "We bring the kids up here sometimes to play. Our night's over here,"

He indicates around the vent and Peyton peers round curiously. Her eyes fall over an old couch and coffee table that some poor soul must have dragged up the narrow staircase at one time. There are glasses set out on the table and an ice bucket containing a bottle of champagne, and a record player at the edge of the set up. Peyton moves first to the record player, skimming through the albums that are stacked beside it.

"This is unconventional." She remarks lightly and Lucas can hear the smile in her voice.

"There's supposed to be a comet tonight," Lucas explains, his eyes shining somewhat.

Peyton twists around and studies him carefully, her brow furrowed a little. She knows there's something behind that smirk of his; the one that's sending ripples down her spine. "A comet?"

Lucas holds up his hand telling her to wait a second, before picking up a paperback from the arm of the couch. Peyton recognises it as one of his novels…The Comet. He skims through the pages for a second and then in a husky tone recites a passage; _"The boy saw the comet and he felt as though his life had meaning. And when it went away, he waited his entire life for it to come back to him. It was more than just a comet because of what it brought to his life: direction, beauty, meaning. There are many who couldn't understand, and sometimes he walked among them. But even in his darkest hours, he knew in his heart that someday it would return to him, and his world would be whole again... And his belief in God and love and art would be re-awakened in his heart_."

She smiles softly at his words, his writing has always been beautiful.

"I wrote The Comet right after Josh was born. He was a fussy baby, always waking up at all hours of the night; Lindsey went back to work pretty quickly so I did all the night shifts. I used to sit by the window, under the stars with him, sometimes if he was really grizzly we'd go for a drive by the ocean, with the skies stretching out for as the imagination can run. I always liked that the sky blanketed the whole world; my world, Josh's world…your world." Lucas says in a slow tone, "And then one night we saw a comet. Well, I did, Josh miraculously might have been asleep by that point. It reminded me of that beautiful car of yours. I went home and wrote non-stop."

Peyton sinks down onto the couch, her eyes sparkling back at her, "I loved that book."

Sitting down on the arm, Lucas gazes into the middle distance, "I always hoped that you'd read that one."

"I read them all." She admits quietly, "I have a collection hidden under my bed, although I don't really know why I still have them hidden away…they deserve to be on the bookshelf with the rest."

Lucas nods towards the record stack, "A lot of those are Red Bedroom artists, I used to draw so many messages from those songs, imagining the woman behind them."

"Do you still believe in fate, Lucas?" Peyton asks.

He chuckles lightly, "I'll let you know."

Her lips twitch at his answer, and she wonders whether it may be tempting fate but she leans over towards him and brushes her fingertips across his stubbled jaw. He's the man she fell in love with over sunsets and soundtracks; the guy who read her right through to the soul. He's the guy who wasn't hers and she's the girl who belonged to another man, and they went through the most torturous of fatal heartaches to get to this moment. Maybe it's fate, or maybe it was always bad luck, she doesn't know. But she's learnt that life is short and unforgiving and surprising, she knows that opportunities like this don't appear many times in a lifetime. She knows that there aren't too many Lucas Scotts in the world either.

Slipping her hand around his neck, Peyton brushes her lips against his. He answers quickly, pushing his lips back against hers and carefully lying her back on the couch, under the stars.

_There you are standing right in front of me_  
><em>There you are standing right in front of me<em>  
><em>All this fear falls away to leave me naked<em>  
><em>Hold me close 'cause I need you to guide me to safety<em>

"Yoshy! Yoshy! Yoshy!" Eighteen month old Anna Scott slaps her chubby fists against her highchair chair, squealing out her big brother Josh's nickname.

Across from her Miles cuts a grin that shows off all of his Baker genes. He taps his spoon against his cereal bowl in the same rhythm as Anna's squeals, which is no real rhythm at all, adding the odd Oi, Oi, Oi when he feels like it. At the head of the table Lucas winces and lowers his paper to glance over at Peyton who only laughs.

She pours out two fresh cups of coffee and rounds the table, setting Lucas' mug down in front of him. His hand grazes her thigh that's on show under her short robe.

"YOSHY!" Anna yells at an impressive volume, her green eyes wide and excited.

Peyton leans down and presses a kiss to her little girl's nose, "Yes, Baby Girl, Joshy is home today."

Catching Lucas' smile in the corner of her eye, Peyton feels one pulling to her lips too. The house has been quieter the past week, without Josh, and truthfully she hasn't been sleeping as well. She never does when one of the kids isn't home. She knows that Josh has been perfectly safe on his ski trip with Lindsey and her partner Rob but she can always feel an empty bed in her house.

Anna throws her hands up in delight at her Mom's confirmation and then crashes them down into the remains of her porridge. She wrinkles her little upturned nose and and blinks up at her Mama, "Uh-oh."

"Hmm," Peyton snaps out of her daze and grabs a cloth to wipe her daughter's hands before putting her bowl in the sink. "I see that. How about you go and find your picture ready for when Joshy gets here?"

"Miiiiillles!" Anna holds her arms up and waits for her big brother to leave his seat to lift her onto his hip. He bounces her lightly and she makes a noise like a Red Indian for no reason at all.

Peyton runs her fingers over her little boy's hair; her little boy who's growing up far too quickly in her opinion. "You could let her walk, you know."

She stutters a laugh when both her kids throw identical looks telling her that there's no chance that Miles is going to set Anna down on her feet any time soon. Honestly Peyton doesn't know why she bothers, with two besotted big brothers and a Dad that's head over heels in love with her, Anna's little feet barely ever touch the floor. They carry her everywhere, much to Peyton's chagrin.

"Leave him," Lucas says listlessly, winking to Miles as he strolls from the room with Anna.

"You're worse than the boys." Peyton says, pointing her finger.

Lucas holds up his hand in surrender, laughing softly. He leaves his seat and moves to stand behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her waist and peppering kisses to her neck. "I'm just training them in case I'm not around the first time she tries to sneak a boy into the house."

Tilting her head into the curve of his embrace, Peyton laughs at his ridiculous over-protective nature. "I see. Carrying her everywhere really makes a whole load of sense now, Luke. It's really going to stop all those boys."

"She's my baby girl, okay?" Lucas admits with a slight shrug, "I can't help it."

"I know." Peyton smiles and leans up on her toes to kiss him, just as they hear the front door crash open and another wail of Yoshy.

Lucas breaks away reluctantly and sighs, "I better go and see Lindsey, make sure everything went alright."

Peyton nods and glances down at the short robe she's wearing over her shorts and camisole pyjamas. "Yeah, and I'd better stay here."

He chuckles and leaves the room as Peyton begins to clear away the breakfast things.

A moment later he's replaced by Josh who has Anna cradled predictably in his arms. He's wearing a wide smirk and his mousy coloured hair is falling into his eyes a little more than it did before he left. Peyton smiles in his appearance, thinking he seems older too as Miles skids into the kitchen after his brother and sister.

"How was your trip?" Peyton asks drying her hands so that she pull him into a tight hug.

He rolls his shoulders in a shrug, "It was okay."

She can read him as well as she can his father; he's all brooding eyes and pouting lips. Peyton's hand lingers on his shoulder a second longer, "You didn't have a good time? What happened?"

"Nothing." Josh shakes his head, "I guess it was just a bit boring. Mom and Rob like the whole après-ski thing, we spent every night with all these other couples chatting about boring stuff."

Peyton gives him a sad look, "Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I thought you'd love skiing."

"Skiing was cool, and snowboarding's awesome." Josh assures her, "Like it would be cool if we all went. Everything was just so serious, it wasn't fun."

"We should go, Mom!" Miles announces, his eyes shining at the thought. He's been jealous of Josh since the day he came home with the news Lindsey had invited him along to the cabin.

Peyton goes to protest but Josh beats her, "No. Not yet, not until Princess Peach is old enough to come too. I can teach her!"

He winks at his little sister and she giggles back adorably. Peyton wonders silently how Anna would get on with skiing considering she doesn't even walk anywhere but she keeps the thought to herself.

"Can you teach me too, Josh?" Miles asks in a bashfully hopeful tone. Peyton thinks it's cute; Miles idolises Joshua.

Josh turns to his younger brother and nods, "Of course, Man. You'd love boarding."

Miles grins happily and Peyton smiles too, hugging her coffee mug in her hands. She loves seeing the kids interact so harmoniously. Initially it was a worry that the boys wouldn't get along as they'd both been only child their whole lives but they'd embraced the idea of a live-in play mate. Josh spends every second weekend or so at his Mom's, but for the most part lives with Lucas and Peyton.

"What's going on in here?" Lucas asks as he strolls back into the room, a slightly weary look across his features.

"Skiiiiii!" Anna informs him in her usual over enthusiastic one word squeal.

Everyone laughs and Josh uncurls her from his waist, setting her down so that she's stood on his feet. He holds her by the hands and imitates the motion of skiing on the kitchen floor in his socks. She woops little baby giggles and glances up between her Mama and Daddy with excitement.

"Yoshy!" She manages between laughs.

"We're racing down the hill and Peach is in the lead," Josh says in a fake commentators voice, "Is she going to do it? It's the final straight…and Peach takes it by a nose!"

He lifts her from his feet as he announces her win and spins her around so that she's facing him, her green eyes closed as she laughs. Josh smiles back at her, "I missed you, Peachy."

"Miss you, Yoshy." She returns in as solemn a tone as a toddler can muster, her little hand reaching out to cup his cheek.

"It's true." Lucas nods to his son, "Apparently I don't do the storybook voices nearly as well."

Josh grins at the compliment and settles into his usual seat at the kitchen table, Anna on his lap. He reaches for the half-drunk cup of coffee and cheekily takes a sip. "Mom doesn't let me drink coffee."

"Probably because you'd drink out of her cup." Peyton remarks, taking her drink back. "I'll make you your own. Have you have had breakfast yet? I can make your favourite; pancakes."

Shaking his head, Josh laughs, "French toast, Peyt."

"Dammit, every time!" Peyton laughs, not missing Lucas' knowing smirk.

Peyton flicks on the radio on the way to the stove and listens as her family chatters behind her. Miles and Lucas are interrogating Josh lightly about his trip and Anna's singing along to the radio with all the wrong lyrics. For a second, Peyton turns and watches the scene, thinking once again of how far they came to get here; of how much heartache both she and Lucas endured along the way. She remembers him asking her what she'd wanted to be when she grew up and she can say without hesitation that this - the picture of her family that she's watching - is everything she ever dreamt of. It doesn't matter to her that Josh and Miles aren't_ theirs_ exactly because it doesn't make them any less of a family.

"You okay, Blondie?" Lucas calls from across the room, his squint falling over her.

The song changes to an old Keane one and Peyton breaks into a wide smile, "Perfect."

She turns her attention back to the french toast and sings along lightly under her breath, "_Now is the time of our comfort and plenty, these are the days we've been working for, nothing can touch us and nothing can harm us, and nothing goes wrong anymor_e."

_There you are standing right in front of me_  
><em>There you are standing right in front of me<em>  
><em>All this fear falls away to leave me naked<em>  
><em>Hold me close 'cause I need you to guide me to safety<em>

_No, I won't wait forever_  
><em>No, I won't wait forever<em>  
><em>No, I won't wait forever<em>

…

I don't know how I feel about this piece. I've always said that Leyton are not my strong point, despite adoring them. I'm not sure that Lucas fought hard enough or Peyton resisted as I believe she would (or should) have, but they were always going to get together in the end and I promised you three parts.

Thank you for reading, Lovelies :)


End file.
